It Was The End In The Past
by Boggart in the Wardrobe
Summary: His voiced echoed in the woods. There was silence, except for the fluttering leaves, the soft breeze, chirps of the birds and the soft sobbing of the boy, left alone in the lonely woods. Her last breath was taken away by death.And for him, it was the end.
1. The Death

Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter facts and stuff. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. This is just my fan fiction.

Chapter 1

†The Death†

"Granger!" cried a voice. "Gr-gra-granger., come on, speak to me." The boy's face was filled with mixed emotions, anger, melancholy, and regret. They boy shook the girl, lying on the soft damp grass. The girl with bushy brown locks was cold and pale. She was breathing shallowly, as if she would die. "Hermione…" the boy said with a soft tone. Tears began to flow from his natural pale cheek. "Hermione…" They were in dark lonely woodland filled with mysterious creatures and foreign plants. Bushes and shrubs with wild flowers and orchids on tree trunks give more color to the cold place. "I'm sorry Hermione, I'm very sorry." he said

Just then, the girl opened her mouth. "I-i-it's o-o-ok-k-kay…" she said, trying to give the boy a wonderful smile, but failed because her lips are to weary to move. "M-m… D-d-dr…" she was stuttering. She can hardly breathe. "I-I…" the boy looked at the girl's face. He took her hand and held it for a few moments. He enjoyed her touch, even if her hands are cold, he still felt warmth. "What is it?" he asked the girl who was stuttering a while ago. "I-I…" the girl said softly. "I I-I-lo-v-v…" but her last breath was gone.

"Hermione!" the boy cried. His voiced echoed in the woods. There was silence, except for the fluttering leaves, the soft breeze, chirps of the birds and the soft sobbing of the boy, left alone in the lonely woods. Her last breath was taken away by death.

And for him, it was the end.

Author's note: Short chapter, oh yeah, this story has flashbacks, so be careul reading so things won't get mixed up. Enjoy.


	2. Talking to a Madman, Malfoy?

Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter facts and stuff. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. This is just may fan fiction.

Chapter 2

†Talking to a Madman Malfoy?†

It was a winter Hogsmeade weekend. The roads were covered with white snow and snowflakes were falling everywhere. Autumn had gone past. The winter made people feel that the long-awaited Christmas is rapidly approaching. Hogsmeade village was packed with people shopping, chatting or hanging out at the bars and inns. And most of these people are Hogwarts students.

"Go to the Three Broomstick without me, I'll just follow you there later." Draco Malfoy ordered his two cronies, namely Crabbe and Goyle. "Here are a few coins for you guys." He said as he handed a couple of shiny coins to his two humungous sidekicks. Crabbe and Goyle's eyes filled with glee and nodded without any contradiction. The two thickskulled blokes went inside the cozy but crowded bar. Draco Malfoy, the famous sixth-year Slytherin with silver blonde hair and pale skin was in his Slytherin scarf and coat. He was not that good looking or intelligent, but people could say that he's cunning. Draco told Crabbe and Goyle to go to the bar without him because something caught his attention while they were walking along the snowy paths of Hogsmeade. And it was an old man with shabby clothes sitting on the snowy ground with a piece of torn cloth in front of him. Draco approached the man.

"Curses! Curses! They're deadlier than thorny roses!" the old man sang with glee. "Black Magic! Dark Magic! They would make our lives tragic!" the man's teeth are yellowish. His eyes are full of eccentricity. His salt and pepper hair is long with a matching beard. It was clear that he was poor and old. "Snow! Snow! They will make these curses glow!" The man also has a scar on his cheeks, maybe because of his poverty that he was exposed to harsh things. The man's brown skin was a bit wrinkled and sagging with time. He has bloodshot eyes, but his eyes are magnificent and sparkling with wisdom and knowledge.

"Excuse me." Draco said, as he was eyeing the piece of cloth in front of the eccentric old man. He was interested because he saw a tinge of gold in one of the holes of the cloth. The piece of cloth seemed to be wrapped around some gold or jewelry. But if it is gold, why does the man looked so poor?

"Oh a boy! A boy! Do you want a toy?" said the old man with his gaze fixed on Draco.

Draco's eyebrows furrowed. "No, I don't want a toy." he drawled.

"Oh, you're coy! You are coy! Or is this just a ploy?"

"No." said Draco. He tried to remain calm. The old eccentric man was getting into his nerves. "I don't want any toys, I'm not coy and," said Draco with a slight hint of annoyance in his voice. "This is not a ploy. I just want to ask something." he said as he sat down the snow. "What is this?" he pointed at the piece of cloth.

"A cloth! A cloth! But this will not bring you broth!" said the old man again, in a sing-song voice.

"Stop it." Draco said. "No, this is not just any cloth; I saw a tinge of gold in one of the holes."

"No! No! This, you don't know!" the old man said but the glee faded away. But Draco was not contented. He picked the cloth and opened it. "No! You rascal! You're a trickery jackal!" said the old man with his eyes filled with fear rather than anger.

As Draco unwrapped whatever is inside the cloth, he saw two gold necklaces. He picked up the necklaces and gave the man a confused look. Draco examined the wonderful yet mysterious pendants of the necklaces. He saw mysterious symbols and writings. The pendants were adorned with gems of rubies and emeralds. Sapphires and diamonds are on the chains. Opals and pearls gave compliment. There was only one word for the necklaces, wonderful. It was heavy and seemed to be made of gold and pure materials, no fillers or trickery magic. It was true and pure, genuine. Then, he looked at the writings again, and began to speak. "In a golden chain you are entrapped, In a world of curses and despair, But now, that chain will be rapped, And you will now be free in t-" But Draco was stopped as the old man grabbed the necklaces. The old eccentric man looked pale and afraid. "Don't do that, ever again." he said with his voice full of grief.

"W-why? What are those? Why don't you just sell them so that you can buy food and clothing?" Draco said, and he was clearly confused.

"No.." said the old man. His gaze, again, was fixed at Draco's eyes. "Young man, this is a curse."

"A curse? What curse?" Draco asked curiously.

"A curse…" said the man, "I have a home, come, come later at my home. I'll tell you the curse… the story untold… for centuries! Centuries!" said the man. Then, the man began to wrap the necklaces with his cloth and on his right hand, revealed a ring, a ring with a familiar sign.

"That ring…" said Draco, seeming he wanted to stop the man from going away but the man stood up.

"That's just the story for now." said the man. "I live in the fifth cottage to the right of Hogshead." Then the man left without any hesitations.

"B-but.." said Draco but the man was gone. He, Draco Malfoy was now alone, standing between the crowds in Hogsmeade. Snow was falling on his cloak. He was perplexed and confused. _What curse?_

"Talking to a madman, Malfoy?" jeered a female voice. Draco looked around and saw the smirking face of Hermione Granger with her friends Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter.

Author's Note: This chapter is actually a flashback, this is where all begins. Enjoy.


	3. Blood on Rock

Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter facts. this is just my fanfiction.

Chapter 3

†Blood on Rock†

Draco turned around and saw Hermione Granger. Her thick bushy brown locks fell on her shoulders. She was wearing her Gryffindor cloak and her Gryffindor scarf. The said outfit was also worn by Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. "Gits." Draco murmured. "What are you doing here?" he said as his eyebrows met.

"Nothing." Hermione said. "Just enjoying the sight of Draco Malfoy talking to a madman." Harry and Ron laughed with Hermione. Draco clenched his fists with fury. Is that man a popular madman? Is he a madman? A lunatic? Draco looked at the so-called golden trio. He loathed every inch of them. He hates every vibrations of their voices. He curses every beats of their hearts.

"What do you want?" he asked as he stepped forward, towards Hermione.

"I said, nothing." Hermione said with malice on her tone and stepping forward towards Draco. "So, you enjoyed your conversation with him then?"

"It's none of your business Granger! Even if he's a madman, he's better, way better, than a mudblood like you!" Draco scowled.

"How dare you call her a mudblood!" Ron said as he went towards Hermione.

"I can call her whatever I want, Weasley." Draco gritted his teeth.

"No, you can't Malfoy." Harry gave him a dangerous look.

"You can't scare me with your eyes. All of you are slimy gits!" Draco said with fury in his voice.

"Don't talk to us like that! You're vile!" Hermione said with an indignant look.

"Shut up, you bint!" Draco pulled out his polished hawthorn wand.

"How dare you!" Hermione said and pulled her wand. "Expelliarmus!" and Draco's wand flew out of his hands and he was thrown by an invisible force on the solid ground. His winter cloak was torn by the sharp rocks near the spot where he had fallen. But that was not only that, the skin on his arm was also cut.

"Curse you Granger!" Draco shouted at the girl. Hermione threw him a dirty look and step towards him. "Next time, be careful, Malfoy." she said softly and went away with Harry and Ron. When the three were out of sight, Draco stood up. He clutched his wounded arm. Blood was flowing, fresh, red blood. Draco looked for his wand and saw it lying untouched on the cold ground. He hastily picked it up and pointed at his cut. "Episkey." And his wound was healed. "Curse Granger." he murmured under his breath. His whole mind was angry with Granger. But he knew he was lucky enough that the girl didn't jinx him. Still, he hates her.

Draco shoved the snow off his robe and went to the Three Broomsticks where Crabbe and Goyle were probably engrossed with foods and drinks. Then, he remembered what the old man told him. "Fifth cottage to the right of Hogshead," he muttered. "Curse… curse Granger… curse… now I know." He mumbled as he left the sharp rock with drops of his own raw blood. The rock that caused him pain was now tainted with his own red blood. Blood of a wizard, blood of a Slytherin, blood of a Malfoy.

He went on his way, leaving foot tracks on the snow.

Author's Note: I'll update this again, this week (I think). Enjoy! Please read and review.


	4. The StoryTeller

Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter facts. This is just my fic.

Chapter 4

†The Story-Teller†

There were two loud knocks on the wooden door of an old cottage. The old man living in the cottage was still dressed in his shabby. His teeth are still yellowish but his hair was a little bit fixed. It was already late in the afternoon. Who could be his visitor? The old man opened the door. "Yes, boy, you came." the old man said toothily. Draco Malfoy entered the small cottage. The cottage was crowded with stacks of papers and foreign artifacts. There was a small coffee table, two squashy but worn-out arm chairs over a wooly but torn green and silver carpet by the fireplace where a kettle was heated. Then, in one corner of the cottage, there's a wooden table, two wooden – but scratched – chairs, a sink, a row of counter tables and several cupboards. On the other corner, there was an antique cabinet and a small couch with blankets allover. There was also some kind of door in the near end that seemed to be the bathroom. The place was small and dingy.

"Have a seat." the old said as he removed the stack of scrolls on one of the red armchairs. Draco hesitated at first but sat down at the end. The old man went to his cupboards and got two cups and saucers and a jar of tea leaves. He put all those stuffs on the small coffee table. He removed the kettle from the fireplace and poured water in the ordinary tea cup. Then, he added the tea leaves, leaving a wonderful aroma. "Tea." the old man offered a cup to Draco.

Draco picked a cup and sipped some tea. The tea was good and it gave him warmth allover. It was good for the winter. First, there was silence, except for the crackling fire and the sipping of tea but after a few moments, the old man began to speak. "Young boy, do you want to know about this?" he pulled out the necklaces out of his robe pocket. Draco nodded.

"Very well, listen to me closely." the old man said. "Many call me a madman, or a lame story-teller. It's actually up to you whether you'll listen to me or not, young man. It's your choice." he stopped for a moment and continued. "It was actually long time ago, in the medieval times, in a muggle society. Medieval, prince and princesses, lords and ladies, barons and dukes. It was long time ago." the old man was redundant, but Draco could somehow understand the age of the old man. "There was a witch hunter, just like the vampire hunters. This witch hunter was vile and deadly. He accuses everyone he wanted to accuse of being a witch, warlock or a wizard. Even the innocent are blamed. But the landlord of the manor believes in him. So, the lord gave him the right to kill witches. But the truth was, that witch hunter was a wizard. He kills his own kind and also the muggles. Poor muggles.

Those who were accused were burned in the town square. That said witch hunter was actually not that good at magic. Why? Because his magical parents died and he was orphaned. He was raised in the orphanage. But in the orphanage, he discovered his magical capabilities but no one would believe him. Then, he was called a madman. He was treated like a circus animal after that because people believed he's a lunatic. The poor bloke. But wait, someone pitied him. A childless couple accepted him. He was schooled, so he became learned, but he just learned muggle studies, no magic. His new parents told him to keep quiet about his magical powers, so he did.

One afternoon, after going to school, he knocked on their door but no one answered. So, he just entered with enthusiasm. In his hands, he was holding a card – he made himself – for his stepparents. But he saw no one was there. So, he went up and noticed that the door of his stepparents' room was somewhat ajar and he could hear whispers. Why do his stepparents need to whisper? So, he eavesdropped and heard what they're talking about. He was shocked and confused. He couldn't believe what he heard. He was angry. Why had they kept it secret? Why? So-" but the old man was cut by Draco.

"I'm sorry, but I think I have to go, it's late now." Draco told the old man. The old man looked disappointed. "Here, have these necklaces. I'm too old. I'm too poor. I can't protect this anymore. I sense that you have a good heart. I sense that you'll break the curse. You'll change history! You'll make one of the evils vanish forever! But… but… there's a price to pay! You'll need to sacrifice." the old man said.

Draco was confused but nevertheless, he accepted the necklaces and nodded.

"And one more thing, young man, those necklaces are cursed."

Draco nodded and went out of the old cottage. His mind was too preoccupied with questions and amazement. So, this is it.

Author's Note: I'll update as soon as possible. I'm going to school, so my sched is quite full, but if I have free time, I'll write as many chaps I can write. Enjoy.


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